


cat's cradle

by erebones



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Cunnilingus, F/F, Just gals being pals, Kissing, Light Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Spanking, Trans Female Character, Trans Leonie, Vaginal Fingering, background hapi/constance, tipsy sex, very light D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25880608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erebones/pseuds/erebones
Summary: A relaxing girl's night devolves into something a little more spicy.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	cat's cradle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bogoro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bogoro/gifts).



> something quick and fun for bo, inspired by his AMAZING [art](https://twitter.com/aydiosmiopls/status/1292913941128122371?s=20).
> 
> cw: alcohol, sex while a little bit tipsy. Leonie is a trans woman and I use non-specific terms to refer to her bits.

“Shut. Up. You do _not_.”

“I mean I don’t _now_ , but before, in school—”

“I can’t believe you. You little liar!”

“It’s not _lying_ , Leonie,” Hapi interrupts at a drawl before Hilda can defend herself. Marianne stuffs her face into a pillow to smother her giggles. “It’s just a little… emphasis. You know. Like a little bit of kohl under the eyes. It just enhances what’s already there.”

Leonie gives her a flat, unimpressed stare. “She was stuffing her brassiere, Haps. What was even there to enhance?”

“Hey!” Hilda squawks, and smacks Leonie hard with her pink heart-shaped pillow. “I was—endowed! I just needed to… to fill out a little.” She hugs the pillows under her bosom in illustration, and her already generous cleavage grows even more pronounced, threatening to spill out of the flimsy lace négligée she’s wearing. Leonie bites the inside of her cheek and looks away.

“Whatever. I just don’t know how you can swing that axe around with those enormous—”

“Go on,” Constance titters, fanning herself. “Finish the thought.”

Hilda sighs and flicks her hair back over her shoulder. “It’s okay Leonie, I understand. I used to be _so_ jealous of Manuela, before I finished growing.”

“I’m not jealous.” Leonie snorts at the very notion. “I like being able to draw my bow without scraping my nipples off every time I let loose.”

“That’s what _armor_ is for.” Hilda eyes Leonie from across their little circle, and Leonie tries valiantly to keep a heated blush from rising under her freckles. “How often _do_ you let loose, anyway? Like for real I mean.”

Marianne, who had just started to emerge from her pillow cocoon, buries herself again, the tips of her ears as pink as Hilda’s hair. Hapi laughs.

“I don’t think Lele’s had enough booze to answer that.” She brandishes the bottle of wine she’d filched from the kitchens and pops the cork with her teeth. “Bottoms up, firetop.”

“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to,” Constance adds primly, smoothing the skirt of her nightgown.

“Say what?” Leonie blusters. She watches her cup fill and sips gingerly from it, nose wrinkling at the sharply acidic taste. “What _is_ this?”

“I dunno, it was on the counter.” Hapi peers at the label. “Says it’s cooking wine…?”

“Oh goddess,” Hilda laughs, and laughs, shoulders shaking, tits… _quivering?_ Leonie makes a face at herself and puts the wine aside. “We really made a mess of this _Girls’ Night_ , didn’t we.”

“There’s plenty of moonlight left.” Hapi gestures grandly with the open bottle and nearly slops it all over Constance’s skirts. “Whoops, sorry Coco.”

“Watch where you’re waving that,” Constance snaps.

“I said _sorry_.” Hapi plunks the bottle down, safely out of the way of their little circle of pillows, and leans in to kiss Constance on the cheek. “Forgive me?”

They must all be more drunk than Leonie realized, because when Constance kisses Hapi on the mouth it doesn’t seem weird at all. She still blushes, though, and wishes there _was_ proper wine in her cup, if only because then she’d have something to do with her hands. But the fruity, effervescent cordial Hilda had provided is down to dregs, and Marianne appears to have fallen asleep, so the only place left to look that isn’t her amorous friends is at Hilda.

Hilda is looking back. She’s pink in the face, lower lip bitten cherry-red. When she sees Leonie looking, she smiles, slow and syrupy-sweet. “Well?” she whispers. Hapi and Coco don’t hear, or don’t care—there’s a soft little _oh_ sound, the wet slide of a tongue, and Leonie swallows hard.

“Well, what?”

“When was the last time you _let loose_?”

“Like…” She lets her eyes flick sideways. Constance is sitting right up against Hapi’s side, and appears to be sucking on her tongue. Her hand is under Hapi’s shirt. Moving. Leonie feels a sympathetic throb between her legs and presses her thighs together.

“Sure. _Like_.” Hilda shuffles a little closer on her knees, so that they can whisper with their heads bent together, private.

“Um. Not really recently. Not since we all… came back.” Leonie tilts her head, a gesture that encompasses all of the Garreg Mach, their friends, their battalions, their war. _Edelgard’s_ war. “Doesn’t seem, um, appropriate. You know?”

“Why not?”

“I mean, what are my options? Someone under my command? That’s just skeevy.”

“What about one of your fellow officers?” Hilda suggests. Her bodice is really very thin. Leonie has to keep dragging her eyes away from the weight of her breasts beneath the lacy material, the subtle pink flush of her nipples. “Someone… of the same rank.”

The way her palate closes around the hard _k_ sound travels right through her core, like lightning striking a metal rod. Leonie tries to remember what she’s arguing for. Or against. “Like what, one of my—one of our friends?”

“Sure. Why not?” Hilda’s eyes glitter conspiratorially. “Hapi and Coco seem to be having a good time.”

Leonie’s eyes cut away out of self-preservation, but it’s a trap. Somehow in the interim, while they were talking, Hapi has taken her top off and is lying happily on the pillows, arms folded behind her back, while Coco sucks determinedly on her tits. She _does_ have very nice tits, Leonie thinks, slightly hysterically. Not as big as Hilda’s, but nicely shaped, with large, reddish-brown areolas.

“Um.” Leonie’s tongue is thick in her mouth. “Isn’t that—a bad idea?”

Hilda shrugs. “Could be fun. But… only if you _want_ to.”

There’s not much more prevaricating to be done. Hilda is looking at Leonie like she’s a delectable feast, even in her plain square shirt with the first few laces undone and her long johns on underneath. She doesn’t have lace and pretty things like Hilda or Constance, or even svelte, sexy things like Hapi. She dresses for practicality, not pleasure, and she likes it that way. She never considered that maybe a girl like Hilda would like it that way, too. On _her_.

“All right,” Leonie hears herself say. As soon as it’s out, her uncertainty fades, and she offers Hilda a hand as she gets to her feet. “My place or yours?”

Their friends might not mind the company, but Leonie prefers a little more privacy. Hilda must not mind either way, because she gives a cheeky smile and laces their fingers together, following Leonie out into the cool night without a peep.

There’s a funny suspense in the air as they walk along the promenade to Leonie’s quarters. Hilda’s hand in hers is damp and surprisingly soft, for the weight of the axe she wields, and Leonie can smell her hair as the wind stirs it, herbal and faintly sweet. The smell of it is grounding—she remembers braiding flowers into it with Lys and Mari, back during their school days, when Hilda was even fussier than she is now, always wheedling others into doing her bidding.

Not that Leonie ever fell for it. Of course not.

“What are you thinking of?” Hilda asks as they draw abreast of Leonie’s door.

“Our school days.” Leonie hesitates at the cusp of opening her door and turns to Hilda instead. “Did you _really_ used to stuff your bodice?”

“Le- _oh-_ nie!” Hilda whispers. “Not so loud!”

“I’m just impressed, is all,” Leonie says, lowering her voice obediently. By necessity she leans in closer, caging Hilda against the door. For all her strength, Hilda is still petite; Leonie thinks she kind of likes the way she looms over her, protective and a little bit aggressive at the same time. She braces her hands against the wood and leans in close enough to feel Hilda’s soft breasts against her diaphragm. “You grew into them, anyway.”

“You, too.” Hilda’s eyes are wide and shining, crinkled at the edges like she can’t keep from smiling even when she’s playing the ingenue. Leonie rolls her eyes.

“Come on. Let me light a fire.”

Inside, the room is neat as a pin but chilled, as Leonie had predicted. She goes first to the fire, building up a cheerful blaze, then takes her boots off and lines them up neatly against the wall. Then she turns around.

She isn’t sure what she expected, but she’s still surprised. Maybe it’s because her memory is still saturated with the cocky, lazy rich girl Hilda used to be. She’s still cocky, still rich, hell, maybe she’s still a little bit lazy, too. But she’s not as good at pretending, anymore. She’s learned the benefits of honesty, of wearing her heart on her sleeve. And of the profits of shedding one’s chemise at strategic moments.

“Too fast?” Hilda asks, with her creamy shoulders bare, the bodice of her lacy nightdress pooling in her lap. Her full, heavy breasts hang nearly to her waist, nipples tight and rosy.

“Nah.” Her feet unsteady, Leonie treads across the room and drops lightly to her knees on the bearskin rug. “Just right.”

She kisses Hilda’s lips first, because it seems polite, and because she’s been nibbling them enticingly all night. Her hands graze Hilda’s waist, thumbs pressing slightly into her belly, but Hilda grabs her wrists and pushes Leonie’s hands up, up to cup her tits. Leonie has big hands, but Hilda still overflows them, soft as silk except where her nipples drag against Leonie’s palms. Leonie licks her bottom lip and smiles.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I know.” Hilda reaches up to untie her hair, and Leonie reaches down, peeling her négligée down her legs and off. She isn’t wearing smalls.

“Cheeky.”

Hilda just smiles and shakes her hair out, long candy-colored strands that fall over her shoulders like water. “You’re overdressed.”

Leonie shrugs and pulls her shirt off, chucking it onto the back of her desk chair. Underneath she’s wearing a soft cotton undershirt and nothing else. She scrubs a hand through her short hair. “Budge up.”

“That’s all?” Hilda pouts, but she moves when Leonie chivvies her, climbing up on her knees to give Leonie room to sprawl.

She’s in Leonie’s lap in an instant, and kisses her before Leonie can conjure an appropriate response. Even with the thin layer of her shirt between them, the feel of Hilda’s breasts is delicious, soft and full and decadent. Leonie spreads her hands over Hilda’s spine and presses her closer; then follows that narrow path to her hips and ass, which warrants a hearty squeeze.

“What, are you impatient or something?” Leonie mumbles. She wipes a tickle from her lips and finds a long strand of pink hair stuck to the edge of her cheek. “Gross.”

Hilda rolls her eyes. “Sor _ry_. I can put it back up.”

“No, that’s okay.” Leonie lifts one hand and drags it through her hair, gentle at first, then gathering it in a fistful at the back of Hilda’s skull, pulling just tight enough to be a little uncomfortable. Hilda’s throat bobs when she swallows and she tips her head back obediently. “Attagirl.”

“Are you gonna be rough with me?” Hilda pouts—but the wide black of her pupils belies her tone.

“Only if you want me to be.” Leonie gives her bum a little pinch, and grins at the resulting squeal and moan. “ _Do_ you want me to be?”

“Yes,” Hilda whispers. “Please.”

“Ooh, a _please_. Look at you, learning so fast.” Leonie lets her right hand slip lower, following the groove of Hilda’s ass all spread out in her lap, and lower, petting the wet folds between her legs. Hilda gasps. “Do you think you’ve earned it, baby?”

Hilda nods frantically. “Yes—yes, please, I’ll do anything—”

“Bend over.”

Hilda gulps. “What?”

Leonie pulls her hand away from her cunt and gives her ass a sharp smack. “You heard me. Face down, just like that, good girl.” She guides her with her hands, smoothing over the sting of her own handprint—goddess, she marks up like a dream. She briefly entertains the thought of kissing bruises into her tits, her throat, her thighs, then puts it aside for later, spreading Hilda’s thighs with both hands. “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“Okay,” Hilda says, voice muffled by the sheets. From the way her ass is practically wiggling in the air, Leonie doesn’t think _too much_ is gonna be a problem.

Still, she starts slow. Two fingers, tracing her pussy lips up and down, up and down, flirting with her hole, circling her clit without real pressure. When Hilda is whimpering, she presses inside, slow, letting Hilda’s slick coat her fingers. A gentle in-and-out produces the most beautiful sounds: wet, slippery sounds, soft moans and sharp squeals whenever Leonie hits her just right. Soon Hilda is rocking against her thigh, moaning continuously like the wind through the high towers on cold winter nights, and her pussy takes a third finger without issue. Leonie slams into her hard enough to jar her wrist, blunt and aggressive, and it’s only then that Hilda tightens up and grinds down, frantic little pushes against her thigh as she crests the wave.

“Very good,” Leonie soothes, trying to ignore her own arousal. Her long johns aren’t doing much to hide how affected she is, especially when Hilda’s soft thigh slips between hers, rubbing up at the juncture of her legs. “Hil…”

“What?” She drags herself up onto her elbows, just enough to look back over her shoulder with a dopey, satisfied smirk. “Aren’t I allowed to return the favor?”

“I mean… if you want to—”

“Leonieeeeee,” Hilda whines. “ _Please_ , please please please let me, I wanna—”

“What? What do you _wanna_ , hm?” Leonie gives her hip a gentle shove, rolling her off her thigh. The wet spot she left behind is uncomfortably damp, so she decides to cut her losses and wriggles free of her long johns, then her shirt, and straddles Hilda’s waist when she’s done, hands on her hips. “Cat got your tongue?”

Hilda licks her lips. “No, you’re just. Really…” She wrinkles her button nose up all cute. “Am I allowed to say handsome? Because you are—in like, a beautiful way, a striking and gorgeous way—”

“Hilda, shut up,” Leonie says fondly. “Do you want to eat me out or not?”

Hilda beams. “May I?”

“Yeah.” Leonie leans down and kisses her, getting another feel of her breasts. Her nipples fit nicely in the crooks of her thumbs, and she squeezes them gently before toppling onto her side, then her back. “You can sit on my face, if you want.”

Hilda laughs. “You’re so funny. _If I want_. Like, _yes_ I want to sit on your face, if your tongue is half as nice as your fingers.”

Leonie smacks her bum again. “Climb aboard, then.”

“ _Goddess_ ,” Hilda groans despairingly, but she does, and her thighs are broad and strong and nice for grabbing onto as Leonie ploughs her tongue between the furrows of her cunt, eager to taste her. She’s so eager, in fact, that she forgets to be nervous, and all she feels when Hilda puts her mouth on her is heat, liquid gold pooling in her pelvic floor and swiftly threatening to boil over.

“Fuck,” Leonie says, but it’s muffled by Hilda’s pussy. She takes a breath and plunges in, tongue curling over her clit, breathing in the honey-brine smell of her. Hilda’s curls tickle her nose, but that’s okay. Leonie grabs her ass in one hand, pushes the thumb of the other inside her, and sucks her until she screams and cums in a flood all over her chest.

Then her own crest takes her over, thighs shaking and lungs tight as new steel. Hilda takes it all, and when she finally stills, aftershocks rippling through her, she turns about and insinuates herself against Leonie’s side, dabbing spend from her cheek with the back of her hand.

“Sorry,” Leonie stammers, even as Hilda licks herself clean like a cat licking its paw.

“What for?” Hilda runs a hand over Leonie’s soft tits, which are now thoroughly drenched. “I’m the one who made an awful mess.”

“Call it even, then.” Leonie’s head falls heavy onto the pillow, and her hands are full of Hilda, her warmth and softness and muscle under curves. She feels a very delicate kiss to one nipple and smiles, eyes fluttering shut.

“Did I wear you out already?” Hilda sighs, but it’s edged with a yawn. She rustles around a bit before producing Leonie's discarded shirt, using it to pat them both dry. “I wonder how Mari is getting on.”

“Probably joining in, if she isn’t still asleep.” Leonie weaves her fingers through long pink hair and considers. “Maybe we should have stuck around.”

Hilda giggles. “Next time let’s skip the wine and go straight to _spin the bottle_.” When Leonie doesn’t respond, Hilda leans over her and kisses her cheek. “G’night, Leonie. I’m gonna stay the night because I don’t want to walk back to my room naked, okay?”

“‘Kay. If you snore I reserve the right to pinch your ass.”

Hilda snickers and lays her head on Leonie's shoulder. “Deal.”


End file.
